It's a Wonderful Life
by kelly7
Summary: Everytime a bell chimes an angel gets it's wings........... pt2 is very unbetaed
1. Default Chapter

It's a Wonderful Life  
  
  
  
Snow fell, thousands of heavy flakes covering the streets, covering the people on those streets as they hurry home or to a friends. Brightly colored packages tucked under arm, held proudly in mittens, and carried by the ton in holiday accented store bags. They are oblivious to what is about to happen over by the bridge that leads out of town; the big one that spans over the cold, icy black water. There is someone standing looking over the edge. His red hair is plastered to his pale face, eyes riveted to the darkness below. He doesn't seem to notice the occasional car slugging through the snow behind him, the cheery shouts of Christmas joy, or the cold. In fact he looks like he doesn't care about anything.anymore.  
  
He certainly doesn't notice the cloudy sky above, or the conversation taking place right over top of his head.  
  
"See that man?" A low and soft voice speaks.  
  
"Which one?" A questioning voice answers.  
  
"The one by the bridge."  
  
"The one that looks like he's going to."  
  
"Yes, that man."  
  
"Oh," a soft sigh "What's wrong with him?"  
  
"He's wishing he'd never been born."  
  
"But why?"  
  
"For many reasons. Here let me show you."  
  
  
  
  
  
Icicles dangled from drooping tree limbs, snow lay thickly over rolling hills, and school was called off. Which meant that the high-pitched voices coming down the lane could only be those schoolchildren freed and reckless. Sleds of all colors and materials lay at the top of old man Miller's farm, on a huge hill that the kids coveted as their drop of doom. A petite brunette child, twin braided pigtails flying behind her as she flew down the hill, small knuckles white from gripping the sled screamed as she descended, catching the attention of one of the older boys waiting up top. His amethyst eyes found the source of the commotion giggling her little head off as she tumbled from the sled into the powdery snow. He smiled faintly, shaking his head ready to turn back to the conversation the older kids where having about who could make it down the farthest and was there a steeper slope over by grocery store when he noticed a car coming up the road. Coming really fast up the road.  
  
"Ayachan get out of the road."  
  
His voice rang down the hill, unheard by the chatty group below.  
  
He sighed, irritated.  
  
"Aya move it."  
  
He glanced down the road, and turned back to where the group of eight year olds where standing. The car was suddenly around the curve, not slowing down and heading straight for the Aya who was standing right in its path.  
  
Before he could even think about it the boy bolted down the hill, heedless of the snow tugging on his legs. Free of the sloping hill he slid into a dead run, booted feet hitting the icy road seconds before car wheels churn up the sled Aya had been sitting on. His hands pushing her out of the way, he slips and falls. The side of his head hitting the icy road as the car disappears out of sight. He rolls slowly over on his back, staring dumbly up at the sky. He can see Aya's face hovering over his; her mouth is moving but nothing is coming out.  
  
  
  
"So what happened to the boy?"  
  
A crowded restraunt in the middle of lunch hour rush, a mass of confusion and orders being yelled through the kitchen.  
  
"Ran here's that order for table twenty-three." He appears suddenly and absconds with the large platter cutting swiftly and with the ease of much practice through the milling people and stray chairs. At table twenty- three sits a young man, golden hair swept back into a ponytail, long legs sticking out in the isle.  
  
"Here you go." He gracefully unburdens himself of the tray, placing the sandwich and soup before his last customer of the day.  
  
"Thanks." A wink followed by an unbelieving headshake. "I still can't understand why you've taken this extra shift?" Green eyes look up at him, obscured by a strand of golden hair. Ran unconsciously reaches a hand up and pushes the obstruction away; the pale skin of his hand accidentally brushes against the tan cheek of his friend. He pulls away quickly a blush staining his face.  
  
"I want to see everything." His eyes brighten and his voice lefts above it's usual quite tones. " I want to be somebody who shakes the dust from this little town off my shoes." He reaches around and pulls the papers he had folded up in the waistband of his jeans, warm from being pressed into the small of his back; a constant reminder.  
  
"It's the application to a university in England."  
  
"Only you would get this excited over going to school." A wide grin softens the words.  
  
The papers go back to their resting place and Ran shrugs.it's no big deal if others don't understand him. He needs to get back to work and finish up.  
  
"Let me get that out of your way." He leans forward fingers grabbing the wine glass across the table; his blond friend takes the opportunity to whisper into his ear.  
  
"You're beautiful."  
  
He straightens up, eyes narrowed.  
  
"You know I can't hear out of that ear."  
  
Another grin from the blond.  
  
"I know."  
  
It's his turn to shake his head but before he can think of a reply a young girl motioning for his attention from one of the smaller tables interrupts him.  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
"No prob."  
  
He turns unaware that green eyes follow him.  
  
"Hi Rankun." Her brown eyes shift from staring at his previous customer to staring at him.  
  
"Hello Sakurachan, what can I get you?"  
  
Lunchtime is over and so is his workday. Apron hung up in one long black line with everyone else's waiting for dry cleaning. He is about to leave when the phone rings, no one is in the office so he answers it like he's been told to.  
  
"Is Mr. Frank Potter there?"  
  
"Hold on one minute please."  
  
Ran puts the receiver down and finds Mr. Potter in the pharmacy next door. Mr. Potter owned the building keep his pharmacy and rented the bottom out to the restaurant. That was how Ran came to work an extra shift in the restaurant. He worked in the pharmacy upstairs on Monday, Wednesday, Friday and worked weekends downstairs.  
  
"Would you mind the store while I'm gone?"  
  
"Sure Mr. Potter." He relaxes finding peace and quite among the bottles and rows of pills.  
  
Moments later the bell chimes, heralding Mr. Potter's return.  
  
A piece of paper falls from Mr. Potter's hand landing on the countertop.  
  
He ignores the boy who watches quietly, wondering at what is wrong with his employer. Why he looks so ashen?  
  
"Mr. Potter is everything alright?'  
  
"Fine." A choked answer.  
  
"Do you need my help?"  
  
No answer.  
  
Ran can't help but read the open note.  
  
His eyes widen in shock.  
  
Mr. Potter's son has been killed in a car accident.  
  
He watches as Mr. Potter fills a prescription.  
  
"Deliver this to Mrs. Banks.'  
  
"But Mr. Potter it's."  
  
"Don't talk back to me, now go."  
  
He takes the small box and slips it into the palm of his hand.  
  
It will never make is to Mrs. Banks.  
  
It's Monday and the Potter Pharmacy has just opened. Ran sits behind the counter reading for a school assignment when Mr. Potter comes in, livid.  
  
He stands over Ran, shaking with fury.  
  
"I told you to deliver Mrs. Banks her medicine. She told me it never came. Do you know what could happen to her if she doesn't get it?"  
  
"You idiot."  
  
A fist hits his left ear.  
  
And he just stands there, tearing flowing down his cheeks.  
  
"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, I know you where upset.you gave Mrs. Potter the wrong pills. It's not your fault."  
  
Mr. Potter looks at him, horror reflected in his eyes as blood flows from Ran's ear.  
  
He hugs the boy to him.  
  
"It's me that's sorry boy."  
  
  
  
"So Mr. Potter would have killed that woman?"  
  
"Yes, he would have if Ran had never been born."  
  
"And he can't hear out of that ear?"  
  
"Completely deaf."  
  
"Poor child." A soft whisper.  
  
"There's more, watch." 


	2. A visit to the bank

The Plain black lettering reads "Fujimiya's Savings and Loan" something he's seen thousands of times as he pushes open the doors leading into the bank. What's new is the shiny black car out front blocking the sidewalk, maybe a new customer.  
  
"Hiya Ran." He's greeted by the man behind the front desk who seems overly happy to see him.  
  
"Hi Bernie, where's Dad?"  
  
Bernie shifts his eyes to the closed door which reads "Office" on the disfigured glass.  
  
"It's not a good time Ran, your Dads pretty busy right now."  
  
He tracks Bernie's gaze to the door. Wondering why he didn't notice before how quite it was in the bank; how loud his voice seemed.  
  
"Who's in there with Dad?"  
  
Bernie swallows the lump in his throat.  
  
"It's Mr. Takatori."  
  
A few strides later the cool metal of the doorknob turns in his hand and the door opens. Four sets of eyes turn to focus on the new arrival.  
  
"Ran." Surprise in his father's voice.  
  
"Hi Dad."  
  
"I'm busy right now. Could we talk later?" His father's smile is strained.  
  
"I just thought I could sit in on this one with you." An odd request coming from the young man who looked at the name Fujimiya on the door as a yoke around his neck.  
  
"It's not the right time." His father admonishes softly.  
  
"Let the boy stay." A deep voice curls from the depths of the black coat seated at the head of the table. Seated where his Dad should have sat.  
  
"It might be interesting to him."  
  
Ran watches as his father considers it.  
  
A nod of approval and he's seated at the long wooden table.  
  
"As we stated before the interruption." Mr. Takatori's dark headed associate Mr. Crawford broke the silence.  
  
"This offer released you of any and all responsiablities concerning the Fujimiya Savings and Loan effectively selling this building and contents to Mr. Takatori."  
  
"Now why would I want to do that?" His father questioned.  
  
"We're well aware of the problems this loan institute has been having. There's a alarming differential between what goes out of this bank in loans and what comes in. Not in your favor is the fact that you approve loans without bias to credit history or job stability."  
  
His father is quite; keeping his own counsel.  
  
"You're business is a pathetic dinosaur fighting against the inevidable. It's best for everyone if you go with the times."  
  
"Now hold on a minute."  
  
All attention is back on him.  
  
"I'm not saying I know how to run this place."  
  
He feels the flush receding from his face; appeased by the conviction of his words.  
  
" But I do know that without my father and this bank a lot of people in this godforsaken town would have gone to your bank Mr. Takatori .and been turned down. They'd have nowhere else to go. People would have come here to my father and got that bit of roof over their heads, some food on the table."  
  
His hands brace him against the edge of the table, as he stares into the blackness of the man at the head of the table.  
  
"People that you would have gladly turned away because you're a bitter old man."  
  
"Now Ran that's going too far." His father's soft voice.  
  
"I applogize for the insult but not for everything else I've said. My father and this bank will always be here.as long as people like you exsist."  
  
The adrenaline rushes out with those last words and leaves him breathless.  
  
Silence from the object of his wraith.  
  
"Does you son speak for you?"  
  
Mr. Takatori's voice holds no emtion.  
  
A genuine smile breaks over his father's face basking him in warmth.  
  
"Yes, I'm afraid he does."  
  
"Too bad."  
  
With that Mr. Takatori removes himself from head of the table, followed by Mr. Crawford ; black forms against the walnut paneling.  
  
Mr. Takatori pauses looking down at him for a long moment dark eyes searching his face; and than he's gone swept out of the room in a surge of dark energy.  
  
Pats on the back, Bernie is shaking his hand.  
  
"I heard what you said in there my boy."  
  
"It was just the truth."  
  
"Yeah, but you got that old bird pegged."  
  
He smiles trying to displace himself from the words in the office. It was just the truth.  
  
"I know lots of people that are going to be happy that the name Fujimiya is going to stay on that door. even after your father retires."  
  
He nods in agreement ignoring the obvious.  
  
"Aya is going to make Dad really happy ."  
  
  
  
  
  
"So he doesn't take over the bank?" A soft interjection.  
  
"Quite, watch."  
  
A modest two story house sits nestled in a picturesc neighborhood. Inside a loud commotion is taking place at the dinner table.  
  
"Dad listen I'll be home by eleven cross my heart." She pleads in mock agony.  
  
"Last time it was ten."  
  
Daaad." She hangs from his arm disrupting the fork headed for his mouth.  
  
"Whatever your brother decideds."  
  
A pair of large brown eyes meet his across the table shouting him desperate signals.  
  
"When I was in high school it was ten."  
  
"Raaan! That's not fair that was ages ago."  
  
He scoffs at her eggsateration.  
  
"It was three years ago thank you very much."  
  
She sticks out her tongue.  
  
"Considering that I've been roped into chaperoning this little party I suppose eleven is alright if Dad agrees.'  
  
Dad raises in his hands in deference.  
  
"Eleven it is."  
  
She hugs her father tightly, grabs her brother and is out the door in a flash.  
  
The party is being held in the school gymnasium. Kids file in mixing and matching until they are almost shoulder to shoulder. Tables line the walls filled with punch and finger foods; from here the chaperones keep themselves well stocked in refreshments as they watch. Here is where he stands nodding to the few people he recognizes from school who come with younger dates.  
  
"Hey Fujimiya is that you?"  
  
Ran turns to find an old teammate from kendo club smiling back at him.  
  
"Thought I recognized that hair."  
  
A clap on the back.  
  
"Hey Yotan it's Fujimiya."  
  
One of the men standing with his back towards them turns.  
  
"Weren't you just asking about him?" The old teammate asks.  
  
The man looks familiar to him but with the sunglasses on it's hard to tell.  
  
"Yeah I was."  
  
The man answers removing his dark shades ; revealing a tanned face framed with golden hair.  
  
"You remember my buddy Yohji dontcha?"  
  
He nods, remembering tuna fish sandwiches on rye and green eyes.  
  
"Hi." Is all he can think of too say.  
  
"I was hoping you'd be here." A low warm voice murmurs.  
  
"I'm a chaporone."  
  
It comes out more harsh than he intended.  
  
"I guess you can't dance and chaperone at the same time...?"  
  
"I think I could manage."  
  
He dares not hope for too much until he feels warm fingers envelope his hand.  
  
Mesmerized by the deep shade of green he's looking into he doesn't mind so much that lips are moving, something is being asked.  
  
The sudden swell of noise pressing in on them carries the words away.  
  
"What?"  
  
Yohji motions to the dance floor leaning in closer to whisper in his right ear.the one that he can hear out of.  
  
"Do you want to dance with me?"  
  
The question seems to come from a thousand miles away.  
  
He's too busy thinking about how warm Yohji's breath is against his ear; how close they are crowded together by the throngs of people and how his stomach feels like it's full of butterflies.  
  
"Here, now?" He mutters stupidly wondering why he had boasted so forwardly.  
  
"Unless you know of some other party."  
  
"I'm not very good."  
  
"Trust me nobody will notice us oldtimers."  
  
"Famous last words." He playfully elbows his companion in the ribs oversize robe flapping against his arm.  
  
"How was I supposed to know the floor would open up into a pool." The taller man holds his arms up in surrender. "And that we'd be right on top of it once it did."  
  
"At least your robe sorta fits." He points out the sleeves his drowning in.  
  
"Barely." Street lamps illuminate the short hem of the blonds robe as he playfully sticks a long leg out.  
  
The dark hides the spread of color across his cheekbones.  
  
"I was surprised to see you at the dance." Yohji states as their footsteps thud lightly on the sidewalk.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well, I just thought you'd be in merry ole' England."  
  
"I've been helping my dad at the bank until Aya gets out of school."  
  
The bank isn't something he wants to talk about.  
  
"How about you? When did you get back in town?"  
  
"Yesterday...I thought it was time I paid a visit."  
  
"How long are you planning on staying?" It slips unbidden from his lips.  
  
A pause.  
  
"I'm not sure, maybe next week."  
  
The words hang in the air...next week is hardly time enough for...anything.  
  
He shakes the foolish thoughts from his head; time enough for what? He refuses to hear the answer.  
  
"I bet you can't hit old Mister Grimsley's house from here." He challenges suddenly, pointing to the abandoned shack on the other side of the street. Gray siding missing pieces here and there; roof caving in, no yard to speak of.  
  
"How about one of the windows." Yohji asks searching for a suitable projectile on the ground below.  
  
"Sure if you want to make it hard on yourself." He thinks it's a little far especially in the dark.  
  
"I get a wish right?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"If I hit one of the windows."  
  
"Sure I guess."  
  
He thinks its silly.  
  
The rock leaves the blond's hand arking over the street making a loud crack as it hits, breaking one of the top story windows.  
  
Yohji whoops out a celebritory cheer thrusting his fist into the air.  
  
"Hot dog!."  
  
He shakes his head laughing all the same.  
  
"Lucky shot."  
  
"Please, it's all in the wrist."  
  
"Sure."  
  
He doesn't sound convienced.  
  
"Here let me show you."  
  
A rock is placed in his palm as Yohji moves in behind him.  
  
"You hold it like this." Strong fingers slide over the skin of his forearm playing along his wrist.  
  
"And give it a turn as it leaves your hand."  
  
His eyes follow the touch of fingers.  
  
Yohji's instruction tappers off as his hand ghosts up to Ran's elbow guiding them face to face.  
  
It's a full moon that frames their figures against the old house.  
  
The spell is broken by the headlights speeding along the quite road.  
  
The car pulls to a stop along side of them.  
  
Bernie's face appears out of the passenger side window; he's white as a ghost.  
  
"Ran it's your father."  
  
  
  
"Oh no...not the father. He's not..." A whispered plea.  
  
"Wait and see..." 


End file.
